Money is an Object
by alynwa
Summary: Originally written for the Great Episode Challenge on LJ. Napoleon is called on the carpet for his expense reports.


Illya and Napoleon were deep in the heart of UNCLE HQ playing one of their favorite downtime games: Who is the better shot. At the moment, their score was almost even with the Russian just slightly ahead. "Partner Mine, you are about to owe me after work drinks for a week," Napoleon crowed as he began to take aim at the silhouette at the end of the firing range. Just before he squeezed the trigger, the public address system crackled to life as Lisa Rogers' voice emanated from it.

"Mr. Napoleon Solo! Mr. Solo, please report to Mr. Waverly's office immediately!"

"Sounds like you will be buying _me_ drinks, Napoleon. You have to forfeit your turn."

"I'm not forfeiting anything, Tovarisch. I'm sure whatever the Old Man wants won't take too long. I'll be back."

"I will be waiting."

Ten minutes later, Napoleon strode through the door to stand in front of Miss Rogers' desk. "Good afternoon, Miss Rogers, I'm here in response to your dulcet tones." He wasn't sure, but Lisa seemed to give him a sympathetic smile.

"Hello, Napoleon. Go on in; he's waiting."

"Good afternoon, Sir. You wished to see me?" Napoleon said as he entered and took the seat Mr. Waverly motioned he should.

"I do indeed, Mr. Solo," he said as he began to spin the Lazy Susan conference table top with a file on it in Napoleon's direction. "I want an explanation for these reports."

The folder stopped in front of the CEA who picked it up to see that it contained quite a few expense reports. _Uh boy,_ he thought, _this is not going to be pleasant._ Perusing them quickly, he replied, "These all appear to be legitimate claims, Sir. I'm ah, not quite sure what needs explanation."

Mr. Waverly stuck his unlit pipe between his teeth and picked up his report copies. "You signed off on Slate and Dancer's reports. Could you please tell me why UNCLE should reimburse Mr. Slate sixty – five dollars for his bumbershoot?"

Napoleon smiled and leaned forward. _Easier than I thought!_ "Yes, Sir. Mr. Slate's umbrella had been modified by Research and Development to conceal a knife, a two – shot pistol and an extra communicator. It was destroyed during the "Little Green Men Affair" and the only umbrella that can be modified is currently sold at Bonwit Teller."

"I see. And, this twenty – five dollar request for the purchase of lace handkerchiefs?"

"Miss Dancer uses them for several purposes, Sir. She soaks them with ether, uses them for wicks in Molotov cocktails, gags…"

Mr. Waverly harrumphed his annoyance. "Yes, yes, I'm sure Miss Dancer has devised countless ways to utilize the things."

Napoleon started to rise. "If that's all, Sir…"

"No, that is _not_ all, Mr. Solo! You approved your partner's submission of a claim for fifteen thousand dollars for the replacement of a Lancia! What was Mr. Kuryakin doing crashing an Italian racing car?"

"Well, ah, Mr. Waverly, that was during the 'La Dolce Vita Affair.' Our covers were that I was the wealthy owner of a racing team and he was my top driver. How was I to know that my speaking with the lovely Miss Felice would cause her race car driver boyfriend to deliberately run Illya off the road?"

"You should know by now that lovely women seem to be your downfall more often than not."

"Our mission was successful, Sir."

"Of course it was, Mr. Solo; I expect nothing less from my top agents. However, you are not the one who must attempt to justify these expenses to Accounting. At the last Summit meeting, it was noted that the monies spent to reimburse our agents, replace property destroyed during the conducting of our affairs and to support agents' cover stories worldwide has increased by more than thirty percent! That is faster than the global economy's inflation rate. It is simply unacceptable and you and I have got to find a way to put a stop to it in UNCLE North America." Mr. Waverly huffed in frustration and pulled another expense report from the file. "What were you and Mr. Kuryakin thinking giving twenty – five thousand dollars to Miss Brown in 'The Girls of Nazarone Affair'? Have you any idea how much money that is? Well, do you?"

Napoleon was contrite. "Yes, Sir, I do, but it was necessary to gain THRUSH's attention."

"And it couldn't be done with twenty? Or fifteen? And why on _earth_ did you tell her that she could keep everything? Do you think that UNCLE is made of money, Mr. Solo?"

"Ah, no. No, Sir. I thought it was ahhh, a small price to pay for her cooperation. After all, she put herself in danger when she decided to help us."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Solo, you're going to have to figure out other ways to reward Innocents. Unlike you, UNCLE has no rich relatives and we can't afford to keep going back to our member nations asking for more and more money."

"I understand, Sir."

"And another thing, Mr. Solo. Your wardrobe."

Napoleon's eyebrows raised questioningly. "My, uh, wardrobe, Sir? What about it?"

"I appreciate your penchant for wearing custom made suits; however, it seems that UNCLE is footing the bill for far too many of them. That has to stop." He held up his hand to silence his CEA when Napoleon opened his mouth. "I understand that sometimes, it's necessary for you to look the part of a wealthy sophisticate and when _those_ suits are ruined during the course of a mission, well, we just have to suck it up and replace them. Not every mission I assign you requires you wearing a custom made suit."

Napoleon colored slightly. "I uh, don't _own_ any off the rack suits, Sir."

"Then I suggest you consult your partner as to where he obtains his suits and buy some! Either that or let Sections VI and VIII outfit you for affairs. Mr. Kuryakin's expense reports for all of last year are less than you've submitted in the last four months! That's outrageous!"

Napoleon blanched. "Mr. Waverly, the last two times those sections dressed me I ended up looking like Bing Crosby in 'Road to Zanzibar!' It was kind of okay during the 'My Friend the Gorilla Affair,' I _was_ in the jungle; but I felt like a fool wearing a pith helmet and carrying a crop for the 'Her Master's Voice Affair.' And shopping where Illya goes…" The CEA actually shuddered. "There must be some compromise we can reach, Sir. Please!"

Mr. Waverly stared at the younger man for a few seconds before reaching for his bag of tobacco and filling his pipe. He let him stew in his own juices for a minute longer as he took his time lighting up. Exhaling the fragrant smoke above his head, he finally said, "There might be one, Mr. Solo, if you agree that, effective immediately, you replace your own shirts, underwear and socks. Gimbel's sells perfectly acceptable shirts and Fruit of the Loom makes functional cotton undergarments. Since it is your choice to only wear silk, you should be willing to provide them for yourself instead of having us replace them. If you agree, I will continue to sign off on _most_ of your requests for suit replacements. If I find your expense reports or reimbursement requests start creeping up again, we will revisit this issue."

Napoleon's relief was palpable. "That's fair, Sir. From now on, I won't ask to be reimbursed for those items."

"See that you don't. Thank you, Mr. Solo. Dismissed."

Minutes later, Miss Rogers entered her boss' office with a cup of tea for him. "Did Mr. Solo agree to cut back on his reimbursement claims?"

"Oh, yes," the sly old fox replied before taking a sip of his Earl Grey. "I presented my suggestion in such a way that he was quite happy to take it. I don't mind UNCLE North America having the highest success rate or the only Russian agent, but having the agent with the most expensive reimbursement requests was an honor we can do without."

"Yes, Sir."

Napoleon walked into his office feeling like he had dodged a bullet. Illya was sitting at his desk working on a mission report. "When you did not return, I took your absence as forfeiture and went back to work." The Russian noted Napoleon's somber expression and asked, "Are you all right? Are you in trouble?"

He flopped into his chair and announced, "I can no longer ask for reimbursement for my damaged underwear."

"Wait a minute. UNCLE was reimbursing you for your _underwear?_ "

"They're _silk!_ Doesn't matter now; it was either that or the Old Man was going to stop approving the replacement of my suits. He even told me…" He shook his head in disbelief.

"He even told you what?"

"To find out where you buy your crappy suits and buy some, too! I had to sacrifice the underwear to preserve my appearance!"

Illya slapped his hands on either side of his face in mock shock. "Oh, the _horror!_ To have to wear a suit purchased off the rack and look like your partner and everyone else!" He dropped his hands and leaned back in his seat. "Get over yourself, Napoleon, no other CEA, no other _agent_ dresses as well as you do and we all seem to manage. Some of us even attract women who like us despite our sartorial shortcomings. I, for one, hope Mr. Waverly comes to his senses and _makes_ you buy off the rack."

"Just for that nasty little remark, you're buying drinks after work."

"Only because I feel badly that our member nations are no longer paying for your unmentionables."

"Shut up."


End file.
